110

110
Chapter 110

Back in their own pack, the air felt different, thicker, heavier, charged with something Ophelia could not quite name. Mack sat at the edge of their bed, staring at the floor in silence, jaw tight, fists resting on his knees.

Ophelia crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway, waiting for him to speak. When he finally did, his voice was low but firm.

“I’m going to get Azalea back,” he said.

Ophelia blinked, stunned for a second, then gave a sharp laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Mack said, lifting his gaze to meet hers. His expression was resolute. “She’s queen now. It’ll be easier for me to get closer to her and climb the royal hierarchy.”

Ophelia pushed herself away from the doorframe, her laugh turning into a disbelieving scoff. “Climb the hierarchy? Do you think this is some game? Do you think people like Leandro and Thomas are just stupid? Do you think they’ll sit back and watch you make moves on the queen of the kingdom?”

Mack stood now, his tall frame towering over her. “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care about their politics or their opinions. All I know is that I am done sitting here pretending. I’ll be filing for divorce soon.”

The words struck her like a slap. For a moment, Ophelia was speechless, staring at him as though she hadn’t heard right. Then a slow, bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp as a blade.

“So that’s it?” she asked, her voice laced with venom. “After everything—after you left Azalea for me, after you convinced me that what we had was real—you want to throw it all away? Just like that? For her?”

Mack didn’t respond. His silence was answer enough, and it only fueled her rage.

“Have you even looked at her?” Ophelia hissed, stepping closer until she was inches from his face. “Azalea is happy. She’s not pining for you anymore. She’s married to a king, Mack, a king who clearly loves her, who protects her. And you—” she jabbed a finger against his chest—“you want to ruin that? For what? For some twisted fantasy that she’s going to leave Federico for you?”

“She loved me once,” Mack said quietly, almost to himself. “And I know she still does, somewhere deep down. I can feel it. Federico only has her because I stepped aside, because I gave her up when I shouldn’t have.”

Ophelia’s mouth fell open. “You gave her up?” she repeated incredulously. “You didn’t give her up, Mack. You broke her heart. You left her when she needed you. And now that she’s finally rebuilt herself, now that she’s found happiness, you want to tear it all apart? You’re pathetic.”

He turned away from her, his hands tightening into fists. “Say whatever you want, Ophelia. My mind is made up.”

Ophelia gave a short, mocking laugh. “You really think this is going to end well for you? You really think Azalea is going to throw herself back into your arms after everything? Wake up, Mack. She doesn’t want you. She doesn’t need you. You’re about to make a fool of yourself.”

Mack’s expression hardened, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. Finally, he said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a fool. But I’d rather fight for her than sit here knowing I didn’t try.”

Ophelia stared at him, her anger bubbling into something darker, something bitter. She laughed again, this time softly, dangerously. “Fine. Go ahead. File for divorce. Run back to her. But when she rejects you—and she will—I’ll be right here to watch you fall apart.”

Mack ignored her, grabbing his jacket from the chair and walking out without another word. Ophelia stood in the middle of the room, her chest heaving, her hands trembling.

As the door slammed behind him, a cold smile crept across her face.

“If he wants a war,” she whispered to herself, “then I’ll give him one.”

\---

Ophelia grabbed her jacket in a rush, the anger still simmering in her chest as she stormed out of the room. She knew exactly where Mack was headed; he always ran to the same place whenever he was trying to justify his decisions—his mother’s chamber.

By the time she reached the chamber, Mack was already seated across from his mother, speaking in a low, almost pleading tone. The older woman’s expression was calm, patient, as though she’d been expecting him.

Ophelia stood at the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. “Do you know what your son is planning?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

Mack’s mother turned her head slowly, her expression unreadable. “Of course I do,” she said with a faint smile. “He told me everything.”

Ophelia’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “And you’re okay with this? With him destroying Azalea’s marriage and causing chaos in the royal house?”

The older woman chuckled softly, unfazed by her tone. “Chaos?” she repeated. “You call it chaos, I call it opportunity. If Mack succeeds, he won’t just win Azalea, he’ll rise higher than he ever has. People will respect him. Fear him. This is his chance to reclaim what was taken from him.”

Ophelia scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Or it’s his chance to make himself a bigger fool than he already is,” she shot back.

She was about to continue when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and frowned—Maya.

Stepping back toward the hallway, Ophelia answered the call. “What do you want?” she asked sharply.

“Relax,” Maya’s voice purred on the other end. “I’m calling for something that might interest you. I think it’s time we put our differences aside and work together, mutual interest, Ophelia.”

Ophelia’s irritation gave way to intrigue. “Mutual interest? You mean getting Azalea out of the way?”

“Exactly,” Maya said, her tone calm but laced with satisfaction. “You and I both know she’s standing in the way of what we want. I have a plan, but I can’t do it alone. We should meet and discuss.”

Ophelia glanced back at the chamber where Mack sat with his mother, still talking about his next move. “Where?” she asked cautiously.

“There’s a quiet villa, halfway between the kingdom and your clan,” Maya replied. “Neutral ground. Be there tomorrow night. No one will know we met.”

Ophelia’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

She hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket. For the first time since reading Mack’s letter, she felt a rush of excitement. If Maya truly had a plan to get Azalea out of the way, maybe she could kill two birds with one stone—ruin Mack’s fantasy and finally put Azalea in her place.

As she walked away from the chamber, her steps were lighter. Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough.